


Best Laid Plans

by Yen



Category: Black Panther (2018)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Breeding, King or Lord impregnates male concubine, M/M, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-01
Updated: 2019-08-01
Packaged: 2020-07-25 17:57:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20029966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yen/pseuds/Yen
Summary: T’Challa hadn't expected Erik to let him live. On his knees in the Warrior Falls after losing the Challenge, with Erik’s spear to his throat, he had been fully prepared to be sent to meet Bast then and there.Apparently, Erik had other plans for him.





	Best Laid Plans

**Author's Note:**

  * For [seinmit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/seinmit/gifts).

T’Challa hadn't expected Erik to let him live. On his knees in the Warrior Falls after losing the Challenge, with Erik’s spear to his throat, he had been fully prepared to be sent to meet Bast then and there.

Apparently, Erik had other plans for him. T'Challa supposed that he was fortunate that his cousin had a soft spot for omegas. 

Which was how T'Challa found himself _ married _ to his own cousin. Married into Erik's harem, to be exact, as one of the new King's many, _ many _ new concubines. 

The other concubines fussed over their King, falling all about themselves to please him. They got up to all sorts of ridiculous antics to catch his attention. T'Challa watched from a distance, appearing completely unmoved, as they practically threw themselves into his lap. 

The upshot of this was, with so many other omegas vying for the King's favour, Erik paid him almost no attention at all. At first, T'Challa was immensely relieved by this, but as the days dragged by, Erik's total lack of interest in him started to bother T'Challa more and more. 

He had spent his first few nights in Erik's harem lying awake under his covers, hands wrapped around the hilt of a ceremonial dagger that he had managed to smuggle into the concubines' wing in the Inner Palace, fully prepared to kill Erik - or to kill himself - if Erik so much as laid a single finger on him. If Erik had expected T'Challa to behave like an obedient, well-bred little concubine, he was very much mistaken. 

But instead of attempting to rape or torment him, Erik just fucked about with his other omegas. He was never seen without at least one of them sitting in his lap or around his arm, clinging onto his every word. It was so - undignified. Unbefitting of a King of Wakanda, to waste so much of his time and energy just playing with his concubines instead of attending to more important matters of state.

T'Challa knew that he ought to be glad that Erik was so distracted. Every minute Erik spent fucking around was one less minute spent taking over the world. But whenever T'Challa laid eyes on Erik flirting with another omega, a hot flash of irrational annoyance ignited in the core of his chest. 

It was inexplicable. Also, completely aggravating. 

T'Challa complained about all this to his mother over lunch, as he had done for the past few weeks. As one of the King's omegas, T'Challa wasn't allowed to set foot outside the harem, but he was still permitted to have non-alpha visitors. 

"He just flirts with them all day," T'Challa griped, staring down sourly at his almost untouched plate. He lifted his cup of slow-roasted tea to his lips. It was as black and bitter as his mood. "Doesn't he have better things to do?" 

Ramonda fixed T'Challa with a steady gaze. "He needs an heir."

T'Challa choked on a mouthful of tea. "What?"

"He's looking to secure his dynasty," Ramonda said. "It's what any new king would do, securing his rule before attempting to implement any drastic changes to the country. And whichever omega manages to conceive his child…" 

The rest of the sentence was left unsaid, but T'Challa knew very well what she meant. Naturally, whichever omega on whom Erik managed to sire a child would immediately be made his bond mate, a position of unparalleled influence on the King. In one stroke, T'Challa would be able to pull their country back from the brink of disaster, regain his family's influence in the court and save the world. 

T'Challa closed his eyes. He took a deep breath, gritted his teeth and then opened his eyes again. "So you're saying you want me to -" 

"I never said_ I _ wanted you to do anything," Ramonda corrected him. "The choice is entirely up to you."

Well. Sacrifices had to be made, in order to save the world. 

* * *

It was rare for omegas to conceive outside of heat. None of his other rivals had succeeded thus far. It was fortunate that Erik hadn't managed to knock any of them up as of yet, but T'Challa knew that he couldn't rely on fickle luck for long. 

Fortunately, T'Challa had a genius scientist of a sister to help. 

"Shuri, I need something to trigger my heat," T'Challa said. 

Shuri frowned. "I’m not sure if that's possible…?" 

"Or something to prevent other omegas from going into heat," T'Challa amended. "Everyone else except for me. Or is there some sort of drug or serum that I can take to induce pregnancy?"

Shuri knew very well why T'Challa had come to her with such a request. She looked faintly nauseated at the thought of T'Challa carrying Erik's child, but all she said was, "I'll see what I can do." Already her eyes were brightening as ideas began to form in her mind. 

"Thank you, Shuri," T'Challa said, relieved. He knew his sister would come through for him.

"Just try it the old-fashioned way for now," Shuri advised. 

T'Challa gave a little shudder that was not quite one of revulsion. He quickly made his excuses to leave. 

* * *

T'Challa felt very self-conscious dressed in his flimsy outfit of gauzy harem pants and no shirt. The translucent pants were a light lavender and hugged tightly to the curves of his ass, flaring out at the base of the legs so that they swished as he walked. T'Challa was deeply uncomfortable in them. He had never worn anything quite so slutty before.

There hadn't been time for Shuri to invent anything to trigger his heat, although Shuri had rushed to the harem just now to pass him a little black pill that was supposed to increase his fertility. In theory, anyway. She hadn't been very clear in explaining exactly how the pill would work, although she had assured him that there shouldn't be any horrible side effects. 

Whatever it was supposed to do, T'Challa hoped that it worked. Now all he could do was wait for Erik to return to the harem.

T'Challa didn't have to wait for long. He tried not to cringe in embarrassment as Erik entered the main hall, flanked on both sides by the prettiest, most ambitious omegas in the harem. At the sight of those other omegas, the familiar feeling of hot irritation surged up in his chest. 

T'Challa forced his automatic angry grimace away and put on his most demure, appealing expression, looking up at Erik through fluttering eyelashes. This look didn’t come naturally to him at all. T’Challa had had to practice for half an hour in the mirror earlier.

All that practice evidently paid off. Erik’s attention was drawn to him immediately. He gently but firmly brushed off his other concubines, to their displeasure (and to T’Challa’s petty satisfaction). Then he took T’Challa’s hand in his own.

An electric thrill ran up T’Challa’s spine at the skin to skin contact. The last time they’d touched, Erik had been trying to kill him. T’Challa _ knew _that Erik was a ruthless murderer, but to his chagrin, Erik was so handsome that his omega instincts just didn’t seem to care. 

“Took you long enough to come around, babe,” Erik purred with a wicked gleam in his eyes. Then T’Challa found himself literally swept off his feet, carried off to the King's bedroom

T'Challa squeaked as Erik let his pliant body fall onto the plush mattress. He propped himself up on his elbows and looked around. He had never been in the King's bedroom ever since he had lost the throne. Erik had clearly done quite a lot of redecorating. The white sheets and drapes on his old canopy bed had been changed to ones of wine-red silk, and the tasteful, understated furniture had been thrown out and in their place was almost garishly opulent replacements. T'Challa winced. Erik's taste was very… dramatic. 

His attention was drawn back to Erik as Erik stretched himself out on the bed beside him, manhandling T'Challa close. T'Challa felt his cheeks grow warm as Erik's hands came down to grope and squeeze at his ass. The harem pants were made for easy access and removal, but it was still a huge shock when Erik flexed his hands and tore them off as easily as if they were made of tissue paper.

The ruined pants were tossed to one corner of the room, landing on top of a veritable stack of discarded clothing and lingerie that clearly belonged to people _ other _ than Erik. T'Challa frowned, the familiar feeling of jealousy spiking at the evidence that he was just the latest omega in a long, _ long _ string of Erik's conquests. 

He just had to make sure that he was the last. 

Erik's hands were all over him now, stroking at his thighs, cupping at his ass. Almost on instinct, T'Challa let his legs fall apart invitingly. It was easy to let himself get swept by the sensations, to give himself over to the pleasure of having a handsome alpha's attentions on himself. Truthfully, he hadn't expected it to be so _ easy - _ he had thought that Erik would need to be persuaded, that he would have to fight down his aversion and just lie back and think of Wakanda. But it all felt so right and natural that it was easy as breathing.

T'Challa was keening now, Erik's fingers on his cock, his hole, drawing breathless little moans from his lips. He had started getting wet the moment that Erik had ripped his pants off, but as Erik bent his knees back and further spread his thighs apart to expose his hole, slick began to truly flood out of him in a gush. T'Challa felt his cheeks grow warm with embarrassment. He had never reacted so wantonly before, not with his previous alpha partners - was it something in the pill that he had taken? 

"Look at that pretty hole," Erik teased, rubbing the pad of his finger over it. His fingers entered T'Challa with with barely any resistance, just a pleasurable light stretch that had T'Challa gasping and squirming for more. "So wet for me, fuck. Ready to be bred full - pumped full of cum and cubs -" 

T'Challa let out a little sob in response. _ Yes. _ He wanted it. The depth of his desire surprised him, how badly he wanted to swell round with Erik's child, to have the alpha all to himself with no one _ else. _ Desperate pleas began to fall from his lips, "Yes, Alpha, yes, breed me, please -" 

Erik growled in response, an impatient animalistic rumble as he lined the head of his cock up to the inviting wetness of T'Challa's hole. T'Challa wrapped his legs tightly around Erik's hips for leverage as Erik entered him in one swift thrust, hard enough to make him see stars. 

His cock spread T'Challa wide open, the blunt head of it nudging all the way up against his prostate with each forward snap of his hips. T'Challa cried out in ecstasy, digging his nails lightly into the scarred skin of Erik's back. The alpha was fucking him hard, opening him up with each thrust as he pounded hard into T'Challa's yielding body. Slick gushed out from where they were joined, copious enough that each time Erik thrust into him almost to the hilt, there was a lewd obscene sound that filled the room, along with the sweet scent of a fertile omega's slick. 

"Fuck, babe, you feel so good, I'm gonna fill you right up -" 

T'Challa could feel the beginnings of Erik's knot starting to form now, a hot, unyielding pressure at the cleft of his cheeks. Each thrust forced a little bit more of that incredible pressure into him, the discomfort of it merely adding a delicious edge to the pleasure building within him. His body was made to take this, and he opened up for Erik's knot with only a little difficulty, his insides forced open wide to accommodate the burning stretch. 

With a few, final erratic thrusts, Erik's knot expanded in him so fast that T'Challa practically saw stars. Warmth spread throughout his insides as Erik's cock began to release hot, thick spurts of cum within him. T'Challa rode out the waves of pleasure, his muscles rippling around Erik's shaft to milk him dry as his body worked to wring out every last drop of virile alpha cum. 

Locked as he was on Erik's knot, even the slightest little motion sent thrills of mind-numbing pleasure through T'Challa's body. Erik maneuvered T'Challa on his side so that they were spooning chest to back, taking care not to jostle T'Challa too much while they were knotted together. 

Erik's hands played along the surface of T'Challa's body, still sticky with T'Challa's own release where clear, sterile omega cum had spattered across his lower abdomen. Erik cupped T'Challa's belly in his hands, the weight of it warm and comforting against T'Challa's skin. 

T'Challa imagined a baby beginning to grow there, a little prince or princess, with its sire's vigour and strength. Hopefully not his temper. The thought made a small, drowsy smile curve up the corners of his lips. 

It was still too early to tell if they had successfully conceived, but somehow T'Challa knew, with a bone-deep certainty, that they had made it. 


End file.
